


Qui Audet Adipiscitur

by Harpalyce



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Amaurotine Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Ascians (Final Fantasy XIV), Gen, Other, ascian angst brigade, i made my guildmates cry, shippy but gender-neutral, so they bullied me to post this, spoilers for end of shadowbringers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23195110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harpalyce/pseuds/Harpalyce
Summary: He's seen these eyes so many times before. But finally, Emet-Selch stops lying to himself about how they're all the same.(Shippy angst drabble.)
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	Qui Audet Adipiscitur

**Author's Note:**

> The Warrior of Light's Amaurotine 'true name' used here is 'Baetylus' - a name for a sacred meteorite. (The 'canonical' WoL often gets referred to as the Meteor Survivor, or simply Meteor - so, Baetylus.)

Hades knew the written note was so that Baetylus could get the last word in.

_ My mind is decided. I am sorry, but I must do this. We have given all for Zodiark's power, and now I must give again, to buy tomorrows for all who come after. _

Hades knew how he was. The cheeky last word. He was always there with some quip, some witty remark, to capstone his latest grand invention. It was Baetylus that always brought him down - his rock, grounding him from the castles in the air. Touching his arm ever-so-gently and going  _ it's lovely, dear - but where are they going to sit? _ , forcing him to confront all the realities he had been ignoring.

And there, at the end of all things, it felt like Baetylus was doing it one last time.

Scrawled words on a piece of parchment. It seemed almost clumsily archaic, but he knew this was Baetylus's touch, manifest in just one more way. Practical, humble, steadfast. And perhaps commonplace in that same way that tip-toe-walking his fingers up Hades's arm to his shoulder was a little signal, something done to interrupt Hades's latest grand daydreaming.  _ Come back down to earth, dear, so we can talk _ . A little sign to stop being so grand, for just a moment.

_ We have chosen our paths. and I do not begrudge you the one you have chosen. I will miss you, and I know you will miss me. But please know that this is not the end. Not truly. You will find me, if you look. _

It was so like Baetylus to make that final missive on paper that was so satisfying to crumple together in anger, something that felt good to crunch and tear, as the smallest of comforts while Hades felt the wailing cry tear out of him despite himself.

\----

After centuries, Hades was tired of looking.

He told himself that it was just a lie. Baetylus could not have predicted the power and form the second god they created had. Couldn't have predicted the sheer overwhelming force. Couldn't have predicted fully how things were broken apart.

Hells damn the idea that he should make a mosaic of the pieces instead of trying to mend them.

Their first attempt at a rejoining was a little clumsy, a little over-eager, he had to admit. Over the centuries and centuries, he would refine himself and his ideas. He would learn to be more subtle, even as he saw his colleagues - the few remaining of amaurot - wax and wane from sanity, it seemed. There would be centuries where he, too, would grow wild, or grow despondent. This one - the first - he came out with his teeth too itching for blood.

It had been just another nowhere location full of unimportant little sad-parodies-of-real-people. It had just been more tinder to put upon the fire, and he told himself that.

"How  _ dare _ you!"

He had been expecting more cowering, more crying. not anger. not defiance. That was a new trick for these little poppets. Not enough to save them. Hades snorted, flourished a hand. "He who dares, wins. I have dared, so I have won." The little quips and snide remarks were always his favourite pablum.

"HOW  _ DARE _ YOU!"

And that was when he turned to look into Baetylus's eyes again.

They were in the wrong sockets. In the wrong shape. The wrong color, the wrong setting, the wrong ornamentation. But something there struck him to the core.

The orphanage owner stood in front of him, bloodied, bruised, her sleeve torn and her hair down out of its sensible braid. She had taken a beam from her building as it burned, and though it was charred at the end, it still made an adequate club - nail in the end, and all. She huffed out great heaving breaths, wounded and reeling but not down, and all the angrier for it.

And she asked him what use his empire had for the corpses of children. what use the grand crusade for senseless bloodshed. Had he thought about the  _ people _ ? Was this just a game to him, something he did for fun, without thinking any about those who  _ live _ here?

And the spark in the beastwoman's eyes - the same defiance, the same fire that challenged him again and again when Hades tried to wriggle out and give some excuse to Baetylus -

He told himself for many centuries after that when she charged him, the one blow he allowed her to make - sloppy, too sloppy of him - he was not sure how a nail in a plank of wood could remind him so much of fingertips walking up his arm so playfully.

Coincidence. It must be. It had to be.

\---

The second time was so much harder to ignore.

This time those eyes were wreathed in polite crimson. Leaning over the desk, gesturing emphatically, slamming his hand down. Doga of the Allagan Empire glared back at him.

"Don't you  _ see _ ? We cannot let this continue - we MUST not let this continue! The emperor Xande is using powers that he cannot control - he will doom not only us, but the entire Allagan empire! All of its citizens!  _ Everyone! _ "

Hades tried to gulp it down. Just a coincidence. Keep in the moment. It was crucial, nearly reaching a boiling point. Nearly ready to reap dividends. How long had he been working at this one? Centuries, surely. Learning properly how to sway a court, how to talk people in circles, how to make all these empty puppets dance to his strings.

Baetylus's eyes pierced through him.

It made Hades falter. It made the promises of immortality he had been using to manipulate fall flat. If there were just a few more wonders, and then -

Doga shook his head. unexpectedly fierce and defiant. "It does  _ not _ matter how long one lives, but  _ what you do  _ with those lives. To hell with you and your plots. I will die a thousand deaths before I let this happen."

Not a voice raised in anger, but grounded, solid in its conviction - damnably so.

Hades knew at that moment his battle was lost. So even as it echoed victory behind him, he focused on sowing the seeds.

The next time around. The next time. It was just a coincidence. it was just something he could forget.

\--

Hades knew it would be the final time he would see those eyes, and he was starting to welcome it.

Ardbert's had burned so bright, achingly so. And now he stood shoulder to shoulder with this warrior from across the stars.

Zodiark only knew how much he had begged, in his own way. How much he had persuaded. But as he saw that conviction remain ever-bright, he had to admit, perhaps he hadn't been as persuasive as he could have been. Perhaps he left some arguments unsaid. Perhaps he expected Amaurot to speak for itself far, far too much.

Perhaps he was ready for the final goodbye.

Even as he arrayed the souls around himself. Even as he called out to zodiark for rebirth...

All he could see was Baetylus.

Maybe, Hades told himself, it was not so bad, then, that he could not find the strength to strike hard and true and with damning aim. He could never really hurt Baetylus. not really. The disagreements were sparring matches. He always knew, eventually, Baetylus was right. The park benches had to be included, after all. Others had to be considered.

And Baetylus stood before him in kaleidoscopic splendor, and dared to tell him no.

He who dares, Hades supposed, wins.


End file.
